


The Light Between

by NPennyworth



Category: DCU, Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Royalty, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, One Shot, POV Antagonist, Royalty, Sister-Sister Relationship, Succession Shenanigans, Tamaran
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 13:59:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11487816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NPennyworth/pseuds/NPennyworth
Summary: Before Tamaran even knew about earth it was at war with the Citadel. Blackfire's backstory.





	The Light Between

**Author's Note:**

> Just a bit of backstory of Starfire’s older sister, Blackfire. In this story they’re referred to by their native names, Koriand’r and Komand’r respectively. It takes place long before Tamaran has any contact with earth, when they were still at war with a sinister alien race known as the Citadel.

Tamaran was a planet of beauty, or at least it might have been once. Komand'r was too young to remember anything other than the war.

"Keep your guard up, princess," Mith'r scolded, hovering overhead. "Do you think that the Citadel will go easy on you?"

"I think that the Citadel won't attack from above," Komand'r muttered, lifting her staff and squaring her shoulders.

"What was that?" Mith'r yelled, and Komand'r schooled her expression into cool respect.

"Nothing, Master," she replied, planting her feet for when he dove at her. Mith'r's attack was swift and brutal, hardly giving Komand'r time to block his staff. But no matter how hard she tried he outmaneuvered her, swooping and diving so that she couldn't land a hit. Eventually she was knocked into the dust, her arms trembling from exertion.

"I am doing you a favor, you know," Mith'r told her as she slowly stood up. "Not many would agree to train a flightless one."

Komand'r gritted her teeth and didn't reply, keeping her expression neutral. She didn't need to look over to see Koriand'r besting her combat instructor, the two of them circling each other in the sky like a pair of comets.

"Again," Mith'r ordered, and Komand'r forced her aching muscles to lift her staff once more.

* * *

 "Are you coming to the feast tonight?" Koriand'r asked as Komand'r headed back to her chambers. Her hair was dusty and sticky with sweat, and she could feel fresh bruises beginning to throb on her back.

"Of course I am," Komand'r told her, forcing a smile onto her face. " How could I miss your birthday feast?"

"Oh, good," Koriand'r said, a smile of relief crossing her face. "I was worried that you’d be too tired after training." Komand'r’s smile felt strained as she took in her sister's appearance, fresh and clean as if she hadn't just been locked in combat.

"Give me an hour to clean up and I'll be as good as new," she promised, and her sister beamed.

"I can't wait for the feast," Koriand'r confided, her voice humming with excitement. "Mother said that they have something special planned for me this year."

"Perhaps a crown of emeralds," Komand'r suggested. "For the princess of newleaf." She ignored the ugly twist in her stomach.

"Whatever it is will be amazing," Koriand'r gushed. "Do you think that they've hired the musicians from Mount Asmai? Maybe they remembered how much I enjoyed them."

"A true princess is happy with whatever she receives," Komand'r reminded her. Koriand'r nodded and seemed to collect herself, drifting a little closer to the ground.

"Of course. I forgot myself, sister," she said. "I will be happy with whatever I receive."

"As will I," Komand'r said, the lie slipping out easily. "Now off with you. I must prepare."

"Oh, yes," Koriand'r said with a smile. "See you at the feast!"

Komand'r could taste the bitterness as she watched her sister fly off and leave her alone in her chambers. With a scowl she began to unbuckle her vambraces, remembering how her day of birth had been celebrated. Or rather, hadn't.

* * *

_Three thousand._ That was the number that they chanted every year at the ceremony. _The number of lives taken was three thousand._ Her father's voice would remain steady as he spoke, and then he'd step back to let her mother speak. She faced a sea of silver, every citizen in the city wearing their mourning garments.

_The Citadel attacked without warning,_ she'd say, an artistic wobble in her voice. Komand'r could never tell if it was real or not. _Although we fought bravely there was nothing we could do._

Then it was Komand'r's turn to step forward. The crown princess, whose authority and power should have been unquestionable. The first princess in a century, whose birth should have been celebrated.

No musicians or gifts would await Komand'r on her day of birth. It was a day of mourning, in memory of the lives that had been taken on that day.

_We will always remember them,_ she'd say, the words recalled from a thousand lessons. _Their souls watch from the moon above, and we feel their presence every day._

Koriand'r was last, and despite the sombre atmosphere people were still comforted by the sight of their second and favourite princess. _Tamaran will survive,_ she'd say, and one could feel the crowd's attention, hanging on to her every word. _We will grow stronger, and from sorrow and defeat we will rise to victory!_

Every year their cheer stabbed Komand'r like a thousand daggers. _Three thousand lives._ How was anybody supposed to be able to bear that burden?

* * *

 Komand’r was the first to notice the messenger when he stumbled in. She was usually the most observant one at these feasts, which was partly helped by people’s unwillingness to talk to her. So she sat at the head of the table next to her sister and smiled like it didn’t bother her, all the while watching and listening.

There was a flow to these feasts, like a certain dance. At about this point the musicians were in full swing forcing everybody to shout over them, and shout they did. The alcohol had flowed freely, but as both princesses had yet to see their first combat they were not permitted to drink any.

(That didn’t mean that no soldier had tried to slip a spiked glass of berry juice to Koriand’r, but Komand’r kept careful watch and made sure that none of it passed her lips.)

The messenger was walking, which was unusual enough. Tamaraneans usually flew long distances, as it was far easier to travel. ( _Not that I’d know, of course._ She cut away the thought before it could burn.) His garb was torn and bloodied, and his eyes were wild. Komand’r immediately stood up, recognizing the signs of conflict. Perhaps even a battle.

“What happened?” she said, her voice ringing with authority. People paused in their bawdy conversations and turned towards her wearing confused frowns. It was impolite to interrupt a feast, especially the birthday feast of a princess. But Komand’r was beyond caring for this inane activity.

“The Emperor and Empress,” the messenger gasped, breathing heavily. “They… I apologize, your majesties.” He bowed low and Komand’r waited a beat to give the gesture for him to rise.

“What of our parents?” she asked, and the messenger would not meet her eyes. Somehow she knew, even though no words had been spoken.

“There was an attack,” he said. “The Citadel struck us quickly. I only managed to get away with my life. There… there were no survivors.”

The hall was still for a moment, and then erupted in an uproar. People everywhere were shouting, asking for clarification, wanting to confirm, wanting to ensure their own loved ones were not in the unlucky group.

Komand’r simply sat back and processed his words. Her parents, dead. Killed by the Citadel. It made sense, of course. Their attacks had gotten more deadly every moon, and it was only a matter of time until they lost one of their monarchs, when both rode so boldly into battle. But at the same time it didn’t seem possible, seemed like something out of a story she would tell Koriand’r to scare her.

Her father was invincible, and her mother untouchable. Both of them the perfect example that Komand’r and Koriand’r were expected to strive for, to labour towards without ever reaching it.. And now they were dead.

A hollow sensation spread from her centre and Komand’r had to concentrate very hard to keep the hall in focus.

“SILENCE!” she yelled, and instantly the hall went quiet. She did not know why she had ordered them to be silent, only that they were all making far too much noise at the moment. Her parents were dead.

“The Emperor and the Empress are dead,” she said, her tone completely expressionless. “Both of them have been murdered by the Citadel. They are dead.” Maybe if she repeated it enough times she’d believe it.

“Komand’r,” came a soft, trembling voice, and Komand’r remembered her sister. Remembered that it was her birthday feast. Even though she could not help it the ghost of a smile touched the edges of her lips. _It seems the princesses of Tamaran will always be dogged by slaughters on their days of birth._ Yes, it was horrible and wrong of her, but the tiniest bit of Komand’r was pleased. After all, now Koriand’r would no longer have these birthday feasts, would also have to don silver mourning garments and spend her day of birth with a downcast expression. Childish though it was, Komand’r enjoyed having something else to share with her sister, even if it was another misery.

“What will we do now?” Koriand’r asked her, tears gleaming in her emerald green eyes. Komand’r looked at her sister and gave her a small smile.

“Brave heart, my sister. We shall endure, as we always do. Our parents are in a better place now. There is no time for tears; we must avenge them and finish this battle that they started.”

The last sentence she spoke to the crowd at large, and there was a stunned silence. Komand’r realized that this was the first time she’d chosen to address the court.

“My sister is correct,” Koriand’r said, visibly squaring her shoulders and holding back her tears. “We must be strong and stand together. The Citadel wish to break our spirits, but however they strike us we will strike against them with ten times the might!”

This time they cheered, bolstered by her words. Koriand’r had even begun to rise slowly in the air until she floated above the crowd, her fists clenched and eyes glowing.

“We will destroy the Citadel for what they have done to us!” she declared. “The time for feasting and celebrations is over. Prepare for battle!”

Komand’r watched as the warriors cheered and swore their fealty to her sister, trying to keep the bitter seed in her heart from taking root. _The Emperor and Empress are dead,_ she reminded herself. _I am the eldest child and the heir to the throne. It matters not what they think of Koriand’r, as they will be loyal to me. Their Empress._

* * *

 “You are not the Empress,” the guard objected when she ordered him to move aside from the door to the throne room. “Once the battle has been fought we will crown our new ruler.”

“I am the eldest child of the royal family of Tamaran,” Blackfire objected, wishing she did not need to crane her neck to meet his eyes. “The throne is _mine._ ” The guard’s eyes flicked away and she felt a surge of anger, certain that there was something that was being hidden from her.

“Komand’r! There you are!” Komand’r summoned a smile to her face and tried to conceal her annoyance at being summoned like a pet.

“Koriand’r,” she greeted her sister. “What did you want?”

“Well, to speak with you,” she said with an innocent smile. Komand’r excused herself from the guard and walked a short distance away so they were out of earshot.

“Yes?” she said, and Koriand’r looked away and fidgeted with her vambrace.

“With… well, with all this, the Citadel, and…”

“Mother and Father’s death,” Komand’r supplied, and Koriand’r flinched.

“Yes, that,” she said. “People have been talking to me about… the succession. Apparently there’s been a bit of a rumor going around that Father’s surprise for today was… he was going to name me heir.”

Her words were like a slap to the face, and Komand’r actually took a step back. She went from confusion to shock to rage in a matter of second and finally snarled at her sister.

“ _I_ am the heir,” she said. “Father would _never_ choose you over me.” She ignored the little voice in the back of her head that whispered _why wouldn’t he, Koriand’r is beloved by all, she can fly and fight and has the people’s hearts. She would be perfect, and you? What can you do to compare to that?_

“I know that,” Koriand’r returned with a touch of ferocity. “And I want you on the throne. But… well, you know how the people are. I’m sure it will amount to nothing.”

Komand’r wanted to scream, to rage and tear and destroy. But she pulled her mask back on and smiled at her sister, nodding and stepping forward to clasp a hand on her shoulder.

“Of course,” she agreed. “Thank you for telling me.”

Koriand’r lit up with a smile like she always did and said some words, probably useless thanks and platitudes. Komand’r could not hear them past the buzzing in her ears but pretended to smile and agree. Then Koriand’r was gone, and Komand’r was left alone to her rage.

All her years she had done well, fulfilled her people’s expectations as was her duty. She trained with the best warriors and studied under the finest tutors, and gradually was groomed for the throne.

It did not matter all the whispers she could almost hear, the mockery and the thinly veiled contempt. _The Dirt Princess,_ they had called her, for her inability to fly. _The heir to inky darkness and shadow. The Opal Princess of Death._

She had told herself it would not matter, repeated it until it became as firmly engraved as her own name. She would be Empress, and they would not _need_ to like her. The whispers would continue and would eventually die out, as she would rule and she would rule _well._ Eventually they would not be able to blame her for the slaughter on her day of birth, would not be able to fault her for being unable to fly. She’d finally be able to erase the taint that stained her from birth and become somebody new, somebody powerful.

But now, knowing that the people would _deny_ her that birthright, the only thing that she had to hope for… Komand’r permitted herself one angry scream as she buried her fist in the wall next to her, watching as it cracked under her knuckles. She then smoothed her expression and walked away, already beginning to make plans.

_They would rob me of everything that I have, and my sister is too blind to see it. Or perhaps she is not willing to resist._

_Either way, I will not let this happen. I will not let them take my rule before it’s begun._

* * *

 Nobody had followed her, Komand’r was sure of that. Hardly anybody bothered to look for her in the palace unless she was being summoned by one of her family members. She used to find this irksome but it had it’s advantages.

“You would bargain with us?” the alien said, it’s voice strange on Komand’r’s ears. She showed no sign of discomfort and nodded, regal as an empress.

“This is for my people,” she said. “They are too blind to see what is for their own good.” Like a weapons master teaching his pupils, she would need to knock Tamaran down before she could raise it up again. For a sword to be made stronger it must be forged in the heat of adversary.

The negotiations were quick, and she left with a wry smile on her face. Of course she knew that they were not to be trusted, but they could recognize power and authority. And once the aliens played their part of the bargain Komand’r could get rid of them easily enough.

Soon she would be back at the palace with her sister, and the Citadel would attack. Only to be driven back by the young Empress, mightier than any warrior ever seen before.

Her parents would not approve of the plan, but they were dead. Koriand’r would not approve, but she was a fool who would soon go the same way as their parents.

And then it would just be Komand’r, Empress of Tamaran. Strong and unyielding, the warrior queen helping their kingdom rebuild. She no longer cared about winning her people’s love, as long as she had their respect.

Tamaran was once a planet of beauty, but now it was only a place for the strong. 


End file.
